


Monster

by sleeping_on_neptune



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves-centric, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mild Blood, Non-Graphic Violence, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeping_on_neptune/pseuds/sleeping_on_neptune
Summary: Ben Hargreeves has always hated his power. It forces him to kill and destroy, it strikes fear into the eyes of villains and civilians alike.It makes him a monster.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> heya!  
> this is my first published work on ao3, so please let me know if there’s any weird formatting stuff going on  
> in general, i appreciate any feedback on my work so please don’t hesitate to leave a comment telling me how i did
> 
> warning: mind the tags, please! this piece includes character death, implied suicide/depression, and some non-graphic violence/blood. stay safe, give this one a skip if you’re not comfortable with any of these topics.

When he was young, Number Six had found it funny that his superhero name was “The Horror”.

His power was that he had a squid inside his stomach, and it wasn’t horrific. Not like some kind of scary monster or ghost, not like the things that Number Four saw. 

He thought that his squid friend would never want to hurt anyone, like him. And when he was young, untouched and naive, it was true.

Father didn’t like that, as Six found out soon after.

As he grew up, Six began to realize that The Horror was an appropriate name. His “squid friend” wasn’t much of a friend anymore. The longer they trained him, the more it seemed to almost crave violence.

He didn’t like that in the slightest. Father said his performance becoming less terrible, though, so he didn’t say anything. He wanted to make him proud.

By the time he and his siblings (minus Seven) went on their first mission, he was certain that he hated his power.

He came home covered in blood, and for the next few weeks his dreams were haunted by the screams of those he had _killed_.

He pleaded to Number One to allow him to do something else on missions. Anything else. He wanted to be a lookout, like Four. But One was loyal. He wouldn’t betray Father’s orders for something as simple as Six’s requests.

One gave him a somewhat-sympathetic smile before sending him back out.

Number Five informs him that the benefits of his power outweigh the consequences. But despite how much Six wants to rely on his brother's logic, his power wasn’t something as simple as Five’s. It's not as simple as any of his other siblings.

A few months later, Five ran out the door. Six (Ben?) rolled his eyes and returned to his book, sure his brother would return.

He never did.

And then Ben cried into his pillow because he didn’t want his brother to be gone so soon. He was kind in his own way, and the two of them had a bond that he longed for the moment it was gone.

Vanya missed him. He knew that because he had seen Five listen to her play her violin whenever he had the chance. She would always have a smile on her face, different from her usual melancholy expression.

Klaus missed him. He knew that because he would see the two of them talking during free time. They would giggle under their breath about something specific to them and only them. Polar opposites, yet they had so much in common.

He wasn’t sure if the other three missed Five as much. He knew (he hoped) that they cared for all their siblings. It upset them when Father notified them that their brother wasn’t ever coming back, but they were never as close to him. Not like Ben was.

Four years passed, and yet it felt like everything stayed the same.

At the tender old age of 17, Ben was, by most legal standards, almost an adult. He couldn’t have felt more like a child, though. He spent his days training the horrible tentacle demon that lay beneath his shirt. But the Horror wasn’t tamable. It never had been.

It was a _monster_ , after all.

Ben knows that their team won’t stay together forever. Most of his siblings are hellbent on leaving the moment they turn 18, and he can't say that he blames them.

And Father knows it too, how the era of the Umbrella Academy is slipping through his time-worn fingers. It's falling to the bottom of the hourglass, quickly becoming irrecoverable. And it shows in how their missions have been intensifying, both in frequency and in difficulty. It makes them all more stressed and irritable as time wears on. They're trapped in a place that they all (though some won’t admit it) are desperate to leave.

It all comes to a head, as the saying goes, when they’re sent on a mission to a gang hideout.

They’ve taken down gangs before. It’s not anything all that different. They’ve seen these groups of desperate people holding their guns to their chest like a lifeline time and time again. Ben feels bad for them. But the world has no pity for those who are sad and hopeless.

Ben’s been sad a lot recently. He’s spent too much time alone in his room, lost in his own head. He often wonders whether the world has enough time for him.

He’s still sad when they go on the mission. His gaze feels unfocused and blank, and exhaustion is drawing his face tight. He feels as though he’s holding something far too heavy for his stature on his shoulders. No one notices. Ben thinks now that it was probably because they were all feeling the same way.

They arrive at the hideout as usual. They go over the plan and then they start arguing, right on schedule. Ben watches the floor, mouth set in a thin line. He feels numb.

“Be- Er, Number Six? You with us?”

Luthor has never been the best at being sensitive. He sticks to his crossed arms and awkward interactions to best cover up his own shortcomings.

“Yeah, sorry. Didn't sleep well.”

It’s a weak excuse, and he knows that they're too observant to see past it. But Luthor nods. Ben notes that his sympathy is more visible when Father isn’t breathing over their shoulders. He gives him a slightly-painful pat on the back before the five (They were seven, six, then five. How long until another disappears?) of them dissipate. The silent glances they give to each other are all broken and hopeless in their own unique ways.

Ben knows what he has to do now. It’s routine to him. A painful, traumatizing, and destructive routine, but it’s what he has to do nonetheless.

This time, he gets to wait a bit. He gets to wait until Luthor has taken down the leader of the group and Allison and Diego have rounded the rest of them up. He sits at the front lobby of the building while they do their jobs, reflecting on how envious he is of Klaus.

But time is never merciful to those dreading what happens next.

Diego walks up to him after too short of a wait, face still dark with bitterness. Ben winces internally when his brother leaves the building with nothing but a curt nod of confirmation.

He’s alone now. Not in the physical sense, but in a way that leaves him completely deprived of support. Everything that comes next falls on him and him alone.

The icy cold follows him into the room. The sound of the door closing is far too loud, and he can’t bring himself to look at any of the targets, staring at the floor instead. They’re completely tied up, and their guns lie in a pile on the floor.

He lets the numbness completely envelop him as it escapes once more.

The monster is lusting for blood and flesh, and it wastes no time in taking out the nearest available target. It grants Ben the opportunity to watch the _pain_ he's inflicting on these poor tortured souls.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

He’s trying to ignore the screams.

“Marie! H-HOLY SHIT, MARIE! NO!”

He's trying.

“HELP! There’s a fucking _monster_ attacking us, oh my god!”

His head snaps up at that, face pale. He sees the blood staining the ground beneath and feels like he's going to vomit.

“C’mon! Get the ropes untied, it’s distracted!”

He’s conjoined with the thing that lives beneath his shirt, he realizes. He is not his own being anymore.

"Get the gun, get the gun!"

The monster stares at the people that he's tearing apart with something that might be regret. But he can't feel anything, it's an impossibility. He is nothing but a ruthless murder machine.

"W-why is it..."

He's frozen to the spot. His tentacles grind to a halt and the mangled corpse tumbles to the floor.

"Doesn't matter! Get it, _NOW_!"

He watches as they lift the gum, aim shaky. It's not exactly a conscious decision, but he finds himself unable to move out of the way. His desperate prey fires one deadly bullet at his stomach.

Time slows.

He falls to the floor, eyes squeezed shut. He's aware of the blood staining his surroundings.

Eventually, there are screams surrounding him. They radiate fear and concern, something that he thought he had lost the moment he took his first victim.

The darkness creeps up on him faster and faster, even as he opens his eyes to say goodbye.

_"Hi."_

He smiles at them, even as tears start to fall into his blood-stained shirt.

_"Don't cry, it's ok."_

He doesn't feel upset. There is no anger or bitterness.

_"I'm sorry."_

He's very dizzy now. The world is fading away, and he remarks that it feels nothing like he was dreaming of.

_"I love you guys so much."_

Their faces were painful to watch, and so he relaxes a bit when he's unable to see them anymore.

He is alone, now.

The world he once lived in, vibrant and full of color, is nothing but darkness. There is nothing more for him.

It is a mercy.

He relishes in the silent numbness, knowing that there will be no more pain. He won't get hurt. No one will ever be hurt again because of him.

He contemplates whether they will miss him. It was an accident, right? A fluke that took out one of the most deadly members of the Umbrella Academy. He knows that people will acknowledge him across the globe.

But the innocent and the kind are the ones who are truly missed. They are the ones who deserve pity.

And so, he does not think that they will be sad for him.

No one mourns a _monster_ , after all.

**Author's Note:**

> if people like this enough i might write a follow-up involving klaus first seeing ben's ghost, so again just let me what you think in the comments!  
> hope you guys enjoyed ^^


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